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The Window (by Jessica Larsen Cunningham)
On my journey I came across a window.
I peeked inside and saw three young and tender hearts
Searching for attention, affection, and time.
I then saw the hands that carried these hearts into existence,
Face painted with struggle, knowing tears only on the inside.
I watched as the hands surpassed the hearts
And instead pressed against a table in anguish.
I watched the light fade from the eyes of the three hearts
Feeling so unsatisfied and ignored.
I watched it fade until my soul could endure no more
And I turned away to the view of the world for comfort.
I witnessed the world fade to colorlessness
Like trees from autumn to winter,
Until there was just black and cold.
I turned back to the sight of the window once more.
The hands were embracing the hearts softly,
Face covered in adoration, with struggle hidden away,
And the light was pouring back into the hearts.
The warmth beckoned me inside
With promises of consolation from the darkened world.
I was welcomed by the hands and pulled in.
I managed to glimpse out the window from the safety of the embrace
And I saw the black turning to grey and amber streaks adorning the sky.
In a whisper the hearts spoke to me
Reassuring me that the world would recover
To the world of light it once was.
The hands spoke as well
And told my heart that nothing in this world is everlasting,
Not struggle or blackness.
Through the words my fears were soothed
And I watched for the return of the light from the window,
My face painted in faith.